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BOOK IGOOD FRIDAY-EASTER SUNDAY CHAPTER 1Oi' liver Oliphant was 100 years old and his mind was as clear as a bell. Unfortunately for him.It was a mind so clear, yet so subtle, that while breaking a great many moral laws, it had washed his conscience clean. A mind so cunning that Oliver Oliphant had never fallen into the almost inevitable traps of life: He had never married, never run for political office and never had a friend he trusted absolutely.On a huge heavily guarded estate only ten miles from the White House, Oliver Oliphant, the richest man in America and possibly the most powerful private citizen, awaited the arrival of his godson, the Attorney General of the United States, Christian Klee.Oliphant's charm equaled his brilliance. Even now his advice was sought by great men who relied on his analytic powers to such an extent that he had been nicknamed the "Oracle."As adviser to presidents the Oracle had predicted Wall Street crashes, the flight of foreign capital, the fantasies of oil prices, the political moves of the Soviet Union. But above all he had amassed ten billion dollars. It was natural that advice from such a rich man be valued, even when wrong. But the Oracle was nearly always right.Now on this Good Friday, the Oracle was worried about one thing: the birthday party to celebrate his 100 years on this earth. A party was to be held on Easter Sunday in the Rose Garden of the White House, the host none other than the President of the United States, Francis Xavier Kennedy.In Rome, on Good Friday, seven terrorists made their final preparations to assassinate the Pope of the Roman Catholic Church. This band of four men and three women believed they were liberators of mankind. They called themselves the Christs of Violence.